Of Memories
by AfraidOfFalling
Summary: Because one day a year, at least, a man should allow himself to be sentimental.


**I meant to publish this on January 30th, but I couldn't upload it that day. = (**

**I don't own Harry Potter**

* * *

Severus Snape climbed the last few stone steps and emerged at the top of the tower. His black cloak billowed in the frigid late-January air, and he spared a glance for the golden rays of the sun that beamed over the eastern horizon before gazing upward at the bundles of feathers occupying the Owlery. Quickly spotting the animal he needed, he strode across the cluttered floor closer to her.

"Hedwig?" He called softly, and somewhat uncertainly.

The snowy owl spread her wings and fluttered down from the rafters to alight upon a perch he could reach. She stared at the unfamiliar man inquisitively.

Snape pulled from his robes a small parcel wrapped in plain brown paper and tied it carefully to the owl's leg. Written in careful, neat handwriting upon it were the words, _Harry Potter, The Great Hall, Hogwarts._ That done, he turned his back on the bird and returned to the stairs.

* * *

The children flowed into the Great Hall that morning in a cheerful, chattering stream. Harry and Ron entered and sat down at Gryffindor table beside Hermione, digging hungrily into toast and gulping down pumpkin juice while their other best friend continued to devour her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells_. In due time the post arrived, and Harry was surprised to see Hedwig among the other owls. She landed softly next to Harry's plate and ruffled her feathers. Hermione did not look up from her textbook, and Ron was focusing his attention entirely on shoveling food through his mouth. Harry untied the package, confused, and gingerly opened it to reveal a small, shallow wooden box engraved with a lily, which once unlatched disclosed a small Muggle photograph showing a small girl, maybe ten years old, sitting on a swing and beaming widely at the camera as if her world could not be more perfect. Even more perplexed, Harry looked closer, noting the girl's long, dark red hair and, more importantly, her bright green eyes—Harry's eyes.

"Mum?" He whispered.

He grabbed the wrappings and examined them for a clue of who had sent it, and looked at the bottom of the box and the back of the photo, but there was nothing to be seen. Gazing again at the picture for a few more moments, taking in all the details he could of his mother's joyous features, he gently replaced it in the box and slipped it into his bag.

From the High Table, unbeknownst to the boy, Snape watched him impassively.

* * *

Snape strode swiftly along the lake's frozen edge, coming to a stop amid a small cluster of trees that lined the bank. He sat with his back against a willow's trunk and gazed for a minute at the reddish setting sun. He removed from his robes another wooden box, set it upon the frozen ground, and opened it. Taking from it an assortment of old parchment pieces, he carefully, methodically, tenderly read long-memorized notes and letters:

_Hey Severus,  
I just thought of some questions I have that I was afraid I'd forget to ask you, so I decided to write them down. How do you get onto the platform to get on the train? What happens if none of the wands in the wand shop choose you—does that ever happen to anyone? How does the Sorting Hat decide where to Sort you? What if we're Sorted into different Houses? Do they give us maps of Hogwarts (because I'm afraid I'll get lost)?  
This is so exciting...I can't wait, but I'm really anxious about it too!  
See you,  
Lily_

_Dear Sev,  
__Paris is so much fun! The only bad part is that Tuney is being really annoying. And of course, you aren't here. The Eiffel Tower has been my favorite so far—it's so amazing in a completely indescribable way. How's your week been? Don't tell me you've already started your summer assignments—we're barely a month into the summer!  
__I can't wait to see you again,  
__Lily_

_Severus Snape I just heard that you got ANOTHER detention from Professor McGonagall! What did you do? Come on, you've got to know better than to hex Potter and Black, at least when McGonagall's in the near vicinity. What am I going to do with you, my silly friend? I guess I'll have to keep you, since I'll miss you too much otherwise, but come ON! -Lily_

Such were the nature of the papers he read: short, insubstantial, unimportant messages that nevertheless held, for him, considerable significance. He dwelled in the memories they invoked until the sun vanished beyond the horizon.

He replaced the pieces of parchment and tucked the box back into his robes. Drawing out his wand, he softly murmured, "_Expecto patronum_," and watched the silver doe move about the immediate vicinity: graceful and peaceful; illuminating the cold earth, the barren foliage, the icy perimeter of the lake. After a few minutes, he wiped the tears from his eyes and whispered to the heavens.

"Happy birthday, Lily."

He allowed the Patronus to fade away into the darkness, stood, and made his way back to the castle, back to the present, back to the world.


End file.
